A Page Of Poems For You
i tried to dismiss
thoughts of you
like a blank page
torn off
from the notebook
and crumpled
and thrown over
the window
i look back
i have written a lot
of poems
for you, and oh
my heart speaks
again
about love
so broken....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Blank Page
Blank page leave me be!
Blank page please stop taunting me,
reminding me of what I have failed to do.
Oh how I long to fill you,
to take up your very last line
with creative, riveting lyrics of mine.
Blank page stop harassing me!
I wish to show you my thoughts,
desires, emotions and all.
How difficult it is to answer your call.
Blank page how sweetly you whisper
tempting my pen to caress your paper.
I immaturely expect the verses to flow
then I realize that my thoughts are much too slow.
Blank page so often you defeat me
teasing and challenging until hours later
all that is left is the tiny dot
where my pen merely touched your paper.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
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The Blank Paper
the blank paper
is like a virgin
woman,
it is not blank because
it wants to
there is this inner desire
to be scribbled
be it love or lust
or whatever
it is just its nature
to be written
anything that fills it up
with words
for its perfection
or even for its destruction
and soon
it will have its fate
a love letter kept for years
or a scratch paper
crumpled in the
bin
burned by another man's
lighter or
torn by a woman's
anger.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Blank Space Inside Us
there are blank pages
some say that it is a must that something must be drawn
words to be written
thoughts to stifle, capture,
stuffed,
there is a day that you prefer
to keep a blank sky
a dark sky without stars
no light
when you close your eyes
you are at home with this blank page
words become
invincible
but they are all there
perfectly correct
well viewed by the eyes of your heart
somehow you go beyond
your every
day fences
move away, jump and run towards
an island of light
a patch of green grass
still no stars
pure blank
it is when you do not believe in the power of thoughts
when what preoccupies you
is nothing when you are finally one with all
space
it is too peaceful to even dropp a word
like a pin on
a shiny floor of tiles....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ode to a Blank Page
Ode to a blank page
It’s blue seemingly thin lines flying across the page
Each producing a small space to place your thoughts on
Next lies the taunting red margin
Baring how sparsely you’ve done
You can strike the page with a single blow
Leaving a mark that did no good
Ode to a blank page
Why do you stare?
Taunting and shrieking in my ear
Emptiness fills the page
The blanks intimidate even the strong
How strong it is
To give a cut even to the toughest skin
Ode to a blank page
You know I’m jealous
How I despise all your characteristics
poem by Rachele ...duhh
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Scribbles On A Page
Scribbles on a page…
scribbles on a page…
back of a yellow notebook
torn pages out
let me go home
God!
let me go home
Scribbles on a page…
scribbles on a page…
my little black writing pad
bent cover-spine
let me go home
God!
let me go home
(i think i need a break)
(i think i need to sleep)
poem by Michael Romero
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What Is These All About?
at 9: 18 p.m.
the head gets the pain
another relief
swallowed
finally you go back
to where you
started
page one
when you said
you do not miss her
page two and three
empty
pages more pages
until you reach
that page where you cried
dried tears at the middle
of the blotted letters
you quickly run your fingers
close the notebook
you stand by the window
at par with the moon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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These Poems These Songs This Beauty This Life
THESE POEMS THESE SONGS THIS BEAUTY THIS LIFE
These poems these songs this beauty this life-
All that I hear inside me
And have heard from others
Through years of listening-
All that I take with me inside
As if it were forever mine
The songs I have learned and love
The poems I recite in my soul
Without even trying to-
All this like the dust
Like the air
Will vanish when I go
And the song of my soul
Will be
As blank as the silence
Of a page never written on.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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No Poem In Here
this is a blank space reserved for an obituary of a dead poem
prose claims a space though in another glossy page.
plese turn to the next page
those non-poets like me please transfer to another room
this place is for dead poems for those who killed living poems this page this space is reserved for all of them.
we non-poets are moving out to another empty page
about to be added, if you can wait, mr. poet...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Secret Leaves of My Notebook
Page after page, I wrote your name in my journal,
With flowers and bees drawn in rhythm of blue;
“I love you” I said in calligraphy of black and red,
But no page was ever torn to hand them to you.
Then I sketched your hair down to your shoulder,
And I adore your eyes staring at me so life like;
The curl of your lips that I couldn’t wait to kiss
Got your gentle smile that made me like a thief;
A thief full of wonder when he will ever get caught
By glints of those eyes just for once to lay upon his,
As he pretends to sip his coke just to steal them out
From the silence of your selfishness, he cries! Cries!
So, he jeweled your ears with rather less expensive,
Enough that he drew something as simple as gold,
For he was just a poor boy who cannot afford to give,
Rubies, diamonds, emeralds, pearl s were too bold.
He said, “I love you, ” hangs his heart on your neck,
With same name, same page, same sky, same trick,
And nothing changed and no leaf was ever ripped
In his notebook, you’re his love, his forever secret.
******************
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Poem about Poetry - when poetry comes kicking
when poetry comes
there is always a goddess
at the back of the mind
that always wants to
swing herself to the fore
to the page and the net
laughing all the way
she nudges at the heart
so that the passion
climbs mountain high
if there is a notebook,
it is a goldmine to till
if not, the goddess
would be gone
and looking for her
would take an age
lost in the forests, oceans
and skies of thoughts
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Blank Page
Blank Page
This new blank page, a word processor page, I cannot touch. I ought to leave it this
way, just look at it and dream of what I could have written on it. If I delet the words
I have written now, it will be blank again, no history, no crumbled up sheet of paper
in the wastebasket. For now it is too late but I might erase it when I come to an end.
My wife was in Johannesburg once for surgery, being born in Congo but light skinned
and travelling on a Portuguese passport, she boarded a bus for the blacks.
Great consternation, she was told by police to go on the white only bus since she
was Portuguese. Racism and anti Semitism are so stupid, it makes no sense, one race
thinks it is superior to others. Now it is the Moslems who are feeling the surge
of ignorance. We want them to be more like us and not Insist of doing their own things.
In Israel, for instance the European Jews feel vastly superior to Arab Jews, This in a state
that is an artificial construct. The culture of Europe in the Middle East. We know Israel,
as it exist today must come to an end. So there I said it, this white virtual sheet has been
befouled by an opinion no one wants to know about. So what do I do know? Erase this
page so it is blank again and I can write about the moon?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Take Back the Virgin Page
Written on Returning a Blank Book
Take back the virgin page,
White and unwritten still;
Some hand, more calm and sage,
The leaf must fill.
Thoughts come, as pure as light
Pure as even you require;
But, oh! each word I write
Love turns to fire.
Yet let me keep the book:
Oft shall my heart renew,
When on its leaves I look,
Dear thoughts of you.
Like you, 'tis fair and bright;
Like you, too bright and fair
To let wild passion write
One wrong wish there.
Haply, when from those eyes
Far, far away I roam,
Should calmer thoughts arise
Towards you and home;
Fancy may trace some line,
Worthy those eyes to meet,
Thoughts that not burn, but shine,
Pure, calm, and sweet.
And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep,
Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep;
So may the words I write
Tell through what storms I stray --
You still the unseen light,
Guiding my way.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Back To My Work
It's time for me to write again
The poems were on pause
So as to ease my mind
Now I see it only took my emotions away
It was locked with the thoughts of new poems
Now I'm back and filled to the brim
Here come the poems
For so long tried to escape to paper
Blocked by procrastination and laziness
Welcome to the world new poems
May the paper caress you for years to come
Written January 31,2011
poem by Ryan Collins
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Blank
Blank pages, blank lines
Blank heart, blank mind
Blank feeling, blank soul
Blank high, blank low.
I dont know why
You just cant see
That all you've ever known
Is the blank side of me.
My Valentines
This valentines day stricly broken up
for my heart has cried enough
the broken pieces left out to bleed
and the bitter strength did not succeed
for this valentine is only a card
cut out by a single heart
only to show you how much it hurt
for it to simply be torn apart
my heart has been cut too many times to count
pieces given away to my valentines
as if these pieces enables a spell
put on me to control my loveless crimes
all pieces have been given away
thrown away for very shown sharp
causing them to so called bleed, to hurt
even if from my love filled heart
for now they are gone spread out for all too see
my hearts in pieces now cried from tears
now the love is no longer in me
and my thoughts no longer conquer these fears
i have no love left
no heart left
only tears left
only hope left
not even a valentine
poem by Kristinahh KIMBER
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Fresh Notebook
She bought me a fresh notebook
To write my deepest thoughts
Deliver up my soul
Daily to her
A hard serrated border
Thick along the spine
Designed to pay tribute in words
An opening address
A nod a wink
Initialled in my best
Invisible ink
I turn a new leaf over
Another page, far from
A new beginning
Or a new address
A naked page where I confess
My deepest wish
To sleep with you
On sheets of winter snow
One day I'll write
A sonnet for your eyes
Smiling like the cold sunlight
And close the notebook shut
Liberating me
From sharp parallel lines
And you will feed
Your hungered soul
On pages of my life
poem by Frank Bana
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Art of Paper
something to be read
something to be adored
something to be touched
the smell of fresh ink
the smell of old book
something to be written
something to be drawn
something to be memorized
the plain blank page
the tiny naughty doodle
though it can be burned
though it can be torn
though it can be fragile
it's not enough re-tell stories
it's not enough replaced by flat monitor
any colors of heart's change
any crazy lines and letters
any cuts and any adds
mark my words
like paperholic lover
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Paper
A blank piece
Of
Notebook paper
Is like me.
It's empty
Of
Ideas and
Thoughts.
It's vacant,
Waiting to
Be
Scribbled on soon,
To
Absorb words and speak.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Lets Mend Whats Been Broken
We started out with a new love
And we thought we had more control
And as it turned to an old love
Bad times started to unfold
Now I dont want to let you go
And I dont want it to ever end
So if feelings have been torn and if hearts have been broken
Lets put it back together again
Ooh, weve got to
Lets mend whats been broken
You and me, me and you
Lets mend whats been broken
Ooh, yeah
Now Im not ready for new love
cause you make my life so complete
And if theres any problem
I know we wont suffer deeply
cause I dont want to let you go
I dont want it to ever end
So if feelings have been torn and if hearts have been broken
Lets put it back together again
Uh-huh, weve got to
Lets mend whats been broken
Me and you, you and me
Lets mend whats been broken
Ooh, yeah
Dont throw it all away
Lets keep this love in every way
Mend my heart, my achin heart
The thought of a brand new start tears me all apart
The love weve got, dont let it end
We can put it back together again
[and lets do it]
[lets do it]
Lets mend whats been broken [lets get to it]
Lets mend whats been broken [lets get to it]
[lets do it]
[lets do it]
[lets do it]
[lets do it]
[lets do it]
[lets get to it]
Lets mend whats been broken [lets get to it]
You and me
Lets mend whats been broken [lets get to it]
I know our love has got to be
song performed by by Gloria Gaynor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0169 Lines in the Sand
Is there a greater privilege
than to breathe sea air? And here, it’s like
a front seat at the greatest
open-air theatre in the world:
I’m sat here on my coat upon the rock
which reappears each time the tide recedes
leaving the sand so smooth as if
the sea were demonstrating beautifully
the relation between its ferocity and power,
and innocence, perhaps forgiveness; there’s
a little runnel of water around the rock
where I sit, notebook and pencil, just as if
this must be the very centre of poetry
in the world;
the notebook blank
as I watch the long-haired dog
taking its master for a walk; its poem
is the ballet it makes, leaping, racing, panting,
looking back, leaving its long hair
patterning the sky a fraction after
every leap; does it know
the ballet is entitled, joy? If I say,
poetry in motion, will you read it
as if you never heard the phrase before?
Racing towards me now, hurling reckless limbs,
one sniff at me, but then there’s something else
more interesting here in the sand to paw.
Some long intoxicating sea-breath minutes now, of mind’s content
to be and just to be; the page stays like the sand,
innocent, as white as salt and white as surf;
and I, the silent poem that nature has just written.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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